


Walking

by AnAmberedBee_011



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Buffy Slipped Universes Again, Fluff, Vignettes, What if Someone Else Had Been the Mother of Darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 16:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16222820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAmberedBee_011/pseuds/AnAmberedBee_011
Summary: Buffy wasn't given the chance to rest in heaven when she sacrificed herself. She was pulled into the Anita Blake universe long, long before it became the Anita Blake Universe. Short glimpses of her existence after all that time. How much of 'Buffy' would be left? (AU of the Anita Blake-verse)





	Walking

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://s835.photobucket.com/user/ccallahan011/media/Fanart%20for%20Fic/Trinity.jpg.html)  
> 

-  
  
  
Just an angsty drabble I first posted on Twisting the Hellmouth in 2009.  
  
  
  
  
I own none of the characters, they're all either Laurel K. Hamilton's or Joss Whedon's  
  


* * *

  
  
  
_Happy_  
  
  
  
  
  
Looking up at him, she could hardly believe that once she’d had to fight every night to feel.  
That she’d hold her breathe trying to kill herself a few nights a week.  
All the emotions that had re-tied her to this world, all the feelings that had cut her, hurt her, made her care again about what happened around her;  
none of them hurt her here.  
Here, she was happy.  
Here, she didn’t have to make the decisions on who’s life was expendable.  
Here, she didn’t have to be the leader that others appointed then grew to resent.  
Here, she was happy;  
she didn’t have to pretend.  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
_Forgetting_  
  
  
  
  
  
 It wasn’t heaven.  
But his sheets were as soft as she had felt there.  
It wasn’t hell.  
But some of those she’d seen were meant to go there.  
He protected her here, in his own little world.  
Nothing harsh was allowed in her presence, and she always felt as if she were  
floating.  
He cushioned her from the world, anything she wanted she had, anywhere she wanted to go she could.  
He showed her things she never would’ve known existed.  
He loved her with a heart more alive than dead.  
His flesh was as dead as her heart, his heart alive as her flesh.  
She basked in him, he clutched to her life.  
Together they worked.  
Together they lived.  
Together they forgot the past.  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
_Remembering  
  
  
  
_  
Everything changed again today.  
Another of those moments when a world-view is irrevocably altered.  
  
  
She remembered today.  
  
A wolf had broken into his room.  
It had attacked her and she had flung it against a wall when it rushed her.

It’s blood smeared along the wall as it dropped, dead.  
She’d caught her bracelet on one of it’s claws though,  
and it had scratched her as it broke.  
Her blood had welled up- and slid down her arm in a clean red line.  
He had stood in the doorway, a new face on.  
Instead of the devotion he always wore, he now wore fear,  
confusion too,  
but naked fear.  
His golden hair one again hiding half of his face, he stared at her.  
He’d spoken some nonsense about her blood calling to him.  
About his control being washed away.  
Another man she’d never seen, he’d asked her how old she was,  
how old she really was.  
"I don’t remember”  
She’d replied.  
His fangs had flashed and he’d demanded she answer him.  
Of course, when one doesn’t remember how old they are it is a bit _i  
nfuriating_  
when you’re not believed.  
She flung him aside and walked away, remembering all those things she’d forgotten in the past years of brief respite.  
  
She’d once been human,  
she’d been a warrior of 'the light'  
in a world before any of the creatures before her had existed.  
She’d been the creature that had created all modern lycanthropes.  
She’d been the mother of the darkness these vampires were from.  
She’d fashioned those she’d let live and given her favorites souls;  
told them to multiply from the sorrowful and lost.  
She’d slept and been forgotten.  
Ten years ago she’d opened her eyes again as human once more.  
Perhaps her power had healed her body to the point where she was once again human.  
Perhaps another had cursed her;  
she didn’t much care.  
She’d walked once more under the sun,  
fought once more against those whom fed from humans.  
And then he’d come.  
He hadn’t asked about her past,  
never asked anything beyond that she stay with him  
and she had.  
  
She hadn’t bled in years,  
hadn’t spoken of herself nor what she remembered for years.  
Today she bled.  
Today he was afraid.  
Today she would leave.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
_Dead Eyes  
  
  
_  
Looking down into the eyes of the man beneath her foot, she saw eyes as dead as her own.  
He had walked up to her and told her that he’d been approached to kill her.  
That he wouldn’t do it.  
Foolish man.  
She supposed he’d believe it’d buy her gratitude or something similar.  
The messengers were killed for a reason.  
Those of feline curiosity often poked noses into business not their own.  
That of course is why they were killed.  
He looked up at her, after she had pinned him to the ground,  
knife through each wrist,  
and she saw in his eyes no emotions.  
  
They held none of the feelings that cut,  
none of the emotions she wished to be protected from.  
She decided then, he would be the next to protect her.  
She told him as she carried him to the house he smelled of.  
She told him that he would ensure she didn’t feel those things that cut her,  
those things that made her want to sleep again.  
He would ensure she could walk under the sun and no one would bother her while she spent her time.  
Or she would kill him.  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
_Alone Again  
  
  
_  
She understood why she’d been drawn to Spike once upon a time.  
He’d protected Drusilla;  
served her, understood her as she lost interest in the world around her  
as time went on.  
She needed a Spike.  
She felt the press of time,  
of thousands of years spent on this Earth do to her mind what Angelous had done to Drusilla’s.  
  
She could read time now,  
see the path of action and consequence,  
read what was happening in different ways now.  
In the face of this complexity everyday cares slipped her mind.  
She was expanding and losing herself in the process.  
The man with dead-eyes had not been enough in the end.  
He could not stop her from hurting herself now could he?  
She brought him back to the place she’d found him.  
Let him find his way home, she would not be cruel.  
He’d not failed her,  
but she didn’t want to forget and kill him accidentally.  
Innocents were still precious to her mind.  
Little else was.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
_Tied Again_  
  
  
  
 She found _him_ then.  
A little boy,  
lost.  
So broken for one so young.  
She took him home with her,  
away from those bad men that would hurt him.  
  
He did not understand at first, when she would not talk.  
He was not scared when she lost herself for days,  
coming back when she remembered him.  
She clothed him, taught him things.  
Little things she concedes; but things she once recalls another little child loving.  
She imagines long brown hair sometimes,  
superimposed upon his short black hair.  
A different face when she shows him how to paint,  
yet another when she brings him to the library.  
He leads her out of coffee shops and she sees red hair,  
he brings her food and she sees longer black locks.  
She sees brown hair when he steps out of the salon she brought him to,  
when she saw his first hair-cut not done without a mirror in an alleyway.  
When he is scared of the drug dealer on the corner and she disappears later that night,  
he hugs her when she returns,  
understanding what she’s done.  
  
That was when she started seeing him alone.  
When he grew and informed her he wished to go to school,  
she no longer imagined others in his stead.  
She arranged everything for him.  
Trying to care.  
And he knew.  
He understood through her silence that he was her tie to the world.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
_Giving_  
  
  
  
He was gone now,  
coming to her once in awhile to show her something he thought could take up her time.  
She laughed a bit at that.  
He thought so valiantly it was his duty to protect her because _her_ selfishness had saved him from dying a bit early.  
Still, she could see how she should love him,  
and she knew his actions betrayed his love for her.  
That was how she’d decided.  
On his twenty-first year of life, she would give him her power.  
She did not know if she would live afterwards,  
if she would eternally wander the earth as a mere human.  
She did not know if he would be able to handle the powers  
or if they would kill him.  
She had prepared him for the world,  
protected him as able as she was.  
She would give him the means to decide what to do,  
to truly be whatever he wanted.  
Unlike those limitation alluded to human children;  
she would give him the choice to be whatever he truly chose,  
for _as long_ as he chose.  
She would do this for him.  
Next visit should be on his last year.  
It was decided.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_No More Walking  
  
  
_  
  
He stood behind her as she watched the waved roll onto the sand.  
He understood now what captivated her in those small things of the world.  
That night,  
years ago,  
she had forced him to drink from her.  
She had still held her strength,  
had forced him yelled screaming and resisting into taking her life-blood into his body.  
The power-transfer had blown out the windows,  
destroyed the house around them.  
She always was murder on building she'd laughed.  
She met his eyes and he turned her chair to face him, ocean at her back.  
He had taken time to accept and understand why she had done what she did.  
That she had given him the ultimate protection.  
That she had no heart she could’ve given him,  
yet the human in her called for her to give him something;  
and so she had.  
He was accepting.  
Something she had never quite managed to learn well.  
He had arranged for her to live on this island, with everything she needed or wanted.  
He understood she wished to vanish from the world,  
to force her body to number it’s days.  
  
He would live for her.  
He loved her that much.  
And that is what she had searched for;  
the release she’d needed from this long walk of hers.  
She knew he would protect another as she had, when his time came.  
She no longer knew if she would return to where she had been called from lifetimes ago,  
but she knew she was done here.  
He brushed her gray and white hair behind her ear and smiled.  
”Rest for me. You no longer have to do the hardest of things in this world. Rest.”   
  
  
  
  
  
_fini  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_

* * *

_  
  
  
_


End file.
